Don't Pinch Me If I'm Dreaming
by MaybeItsJustMyType
Summary: One of my favourite tropes is Molly staying at Baker Street while the threat of Moriarty looms and Sherlock's feelings are growing.. So I prompted myself and made it a sexy romp. This is a smutty fluff fest, if that's your thing, read on Macduff.. (sorry, not sorry)


**This is a fic for my dear friend Lil - lilsherlockian1975..**

 **It's NSFW so enter at your own risk!**

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"Molly!" Sherlock called through the door, his tone querulous, "Are you colouring? If you've started without me you'll get no good night kiss!" His threat floated through the door and into the ears of both Molly Hooper and a curious John Watson.

Molly shrunk down in her seat, hoping to somehow become less visible in the brightly lit kitchen. John raised his eyebrows, his face an amused question. " _So_... You two are seeing each other?"

As Sherlock's shadow fell across the doorway Molly's glance darted to him, shaking her head, her cheeks blooming as she emphatically assured John. " _No_! No, I'm just staying here for the meantime, till the Moriarty thing, ah, blows over, you _know_ that John."

Sherlock crossed his arms leaning against the door jamb. His eyes were fixed on Molly, he cocked a brow and asked her, "Is that such an awful thought to you Molly?" He gestured to himself as if to ask exactly what was wrong with him. "At one time you could hardly keep your eyes off of me."

Molly would have been more hurt by his callous statement if not for the unmistakeable flare of pain in his eyes at her adamant response to John's question. She blushed and looked down at her colouring book again. Selecting a red pencil she began shading the anatomically correct heart.

John, feeling like he'd inadvertently stepped into a mine-field, made a mental note to ask Mary if she knew what was going on. He tried to steer the conversation in a more innocent direction by asking them, "So? Colouring?"

Molly smiled, aware and grateful for what he was trying to do, "I managed to find an anatomy colouring book and I got Sherlock one with pirates so."

Sherlock butted in, "It's for relaxation John," he snapped, unable or unwilling to be jollied. "Molly is obviously feeling the strain of the Moriarty saga and I'm being _supportive_."

John bit back a smile, maintaining an innocent expression he asked, "And the goodnight kiss? Is that simply _supportive_ too?"

Molly pushed her chair away from the table, her voice subdued, "I'm just going to have a shower, I'll leave you two to catch up, lovely to see you John," kissing John briefly on the cheek she disappeared down the hallway heading to the bathroom.

John frowned watching till she was gone before throwing his hands up in defeat. "Well I can't seem to pull my foot out of my mouth. Should I leave? Do you need to talk to her?"

Sherlock sighed, flopping dramatically into the chair Molly had just abandoned. Gloomily he informed John " _You're_ not the one making her uncomfortable."

John nodded in understanding, "Ah, she's panicking about Moriarty, it's gotta be tough," he turned Molly's colouring book toward himself and absentmindedly flicked through the pages.

Sherlock watched John as he reached out a hand toward his pirate colouring book; arching his brow had the pleasing result of John hastily withdrawing his hand. "No, Moriarty is _scaring_ her, _I'm_ making her uncomfortable,"

John had found a picture of a woman in Molly's book and was selecting a pencil to colour with, Sherlock's lips twitched. _Same old John_.

John had begun colouring the hair yellow, pausing, he tilted his head to admire his handy work before continuing, "You've lost me again. You make everyone uncomfortable all the time, especially Molly, why is it such an issue now?"

Sherlock gave him a dead-eyed stare, "Yes John, very clever. This is different."

"Different...?" John prompted, raising his eyebrows.

Sherlock steepled his hands in front of his face, "Hmm, I want a physical relationship and she clearly doesn't, you saw the look on her face, she's horrified by the thought of me."

John looked up, confusion etching lines into his face. "Sorry? What? Did you just say you want a _physical_ relationship?" Narrowing his eyes he clarified, "You mean sex right? With Molly?"

Sherlock spluttered, "No John I want to brush Molly's hair and hold hands, of course I meant sex!" glaring at John he went on. "For God's sake, you sound like Mycroft."

John held up his hands in surrender, "Okay, okay, _sorry_! What makes you think she's not into you any longer?" He asked reasonably.

Sherlock placed his palms flat on the table in defeat, he clearly couldn't think his way out of this one. "I have tried to kiss her on numerous occasions, she just turns her cheek to me. She kissed my cheek to thank me for dinner last night I turned my cheek at the exact moment.. _She_ apologised and then ran upstairs. I told her she could come to me at night for _anything_..."

John chuckled, amused by Sherlock's inability to close the deal when Molly had plainly been in love with him for years. "Have you tried asking her for dinner? _Coffee_?"

Sherlock tilted his head, lips flattened, expelling a breath through his nose and closing his eyes before answering. "I'm not an imbecile John, I tried all of that. Dinner? She ordered in Chinese. Coffee? She went and grabbed takeaway from Speedy's."

John was unable to hold his laughter in, "Oh God, oh God," he gasped out, "She hasn't understood," his laughter drying up suddenly. Giving Sherlock a sober look he told him, "She's _upset_ , she has feelings for you and she thinks you don't know what you're doing. She's trying to be respectful, she thinks it's all accidental."

Sherlock's eyes rapidly fired back and forth as he sorted this new information through the various unsatisfactory encounters he'd been having with Molly, after a few minutes he stood up, John looked up from his picture, "Hmm?"

"We're going to have sex now John, you might want to leave." Sherlock told him looking well, pleased with himself.

John remained sceptical. "What makes you think she'll understand this time?"

Sherlock smiled and started unbuttoning his shirt, John nodded his understanding and scrambled out of his seat eager to avoid the mating dance that appeared to be about to unfold.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Molly pulled off her jumper, vest and bra, she yanked her trousers off and stopped in front of the mirror to twist her hair into a bun. Tying an elastic band around her locks to keep them dry, she turned and admired the curve of her neck and back in the mirror. Clad only in pants she heard the door handle rattle and turned calling softly, "I'm in here Sherlock." She stared in horror as the handle continued to turn, her hands came up to cover her chest as Sherlock opened the door.

He stopped in front of the door and then closed it behind him leaning on it, hands still clasped around the handle behind him. His shirt was unbuttoned, and his eyes soft.

Molly stared at him, "Sherlock?" She needed to cover herself with her towel but she couldn't tear her eyes from his gaze.

Finally he broke his silence, his voice tentative, "Molly?"

Molly swallowed, her heart was pounding, she was rooted to the spot. Not trusting her voice she remained silent, time seemed to stretch infinitely. Standing stock still she watched as he approached her, her breath coming heavier with each step that brought him closer. Any other man she'd say maybe he was going to kiss her, but this was Sherlock.

Sherlock stopped in front of her, he ran a hand down the side of her side of face, pausing under her to chin to tilt up her face. Molly swallowed hard, licking her lips she watched him. She wanted to ask him what he was doing, beg him to leave, her heart could only take so much. But she was paralysed, caught in his orbit and incapable of saying, _Stop_.

His eyes bored into hers, he breathed her name again and she closed her eyes in defence, as she did so she felt his lips, soft and warm, against her own. She gasped and her eyes sprang open, shock making her appear unhappy.

Sherlock pulled back, his mouth turning down, he nodded, "Sorry."

Molly looked dazed, her voice cracked, " _Do it again_ ," her chest was heaving, she let her arms drop and slid her hands up over his bare skin.

Sherlock's eyes darted to her now bare chest, he hissed at the sight, his lips did not brush hers gently this time. His mouth searched hers, his hands moving to cup her breasts, "Oh God, Molly, do you want me?"

Molly's answer was clear, her hands fumbled with his zip and the catch on his bespoke trousers. She soon had him free and took him in hand. Sherlock slipped a hand into her pants and groaned when he found her wet. Molly echoed him, her own movements slowing for a moment as she sagged against him.

Closing her eyes Molly managed, "Take me to bed Sherlock."

Sherlock stepped out of his trousers and took his shirt by the collar, sliding it gracefully off his shoulders. He then slipped his hands under Molly's legs, and lifting her bridal style he carried her to his bed. He laid her down gently and entwined his hands with hers, stretching them out above her head. His mouth traced kisses across her collar bone and neck. Pushing a thigh between her legs he ground into her, Molly's back arched, her sex pulsing and throbbing in time to his movements.

Molly sought his mouth and delighted in his languid kiss, he was so sensual, she would never have guessed that. Moaning into his mouth she freed her hands so she could run them down his arms. She continued all the way down over his torso, until she felt his manhood in her hand. Sherlock's hands kneaded her breasts, his fingers danced lightly over her nipples.

Molly moved her fist caressing him before assuring him, her voice hoarse, "I want you."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Sherlock pushed himself up onto his knees, his eyes blazed, "Now?"

Molly "Oh yes, _now_."

Molly widened her legs, Sherlock scrambled between them, he stopped, hands on her inner thighs as he gazed at her damp pants, biting his lip. Molly moaned out his name and his prick throbbed. His hands made their way slowly up her thighs, delicately tracing patterns over the skin before slipping his hands into the elastic. Sliding her pants down, he was rewarded with the sight of her finally bared to him.

She was so pretty, so feminine; Light brown silky hair curled across her mound, her sex rosy pink and glistening with her pleasure. His cock pulsed with the thought that _he_ did that to her, he made her ache and _want_.

Grasping his prick in his hand he ran his cock over her delicate folds before positioning himself at her entrance, her wet heat inviting. He pushed in slowly, eyes on her face, drinking in her every movement. Molly's eyes closed, gusting out a breath, her head tilted back as her mouth opened in a silent wail. She was beautiful.

Sherlock waited for her to move, wanting to be sure she felt good. Ecstasy roared through his body, the smell of her, the silky feeling of her skin, the fact that it was Molly; his brave, sweet, girl filled him with an overwhelming feeling of love for her.

Molly moved underneath him, her voice filled with longing, " _Sherlock_ ," her eyes sought his.

Sherlock moved slowly, his pace glacial, "Oh Molly, my beautiful girl, I'm in love with you." Eyes locked on hers when he asked her, "Do you love me? Or did I ruin it?" Dread coursed through him, he was deep inside her yet he feared she was still too far away. Joy cascaded through his body when she smiled at him, it trickled down the back of his neck, finally rolling across his back causing him to shiver when Molly looked up at him, her eyes pooled with desire for him.

Her back arched, sinking her teeth into her lower lip, her hips circled slowly, "I'll always love you Sherlock, I always have."

Sherlock's breathing was heavy, his movements were speeding up. Molly began moaning and clutching the blankets underneath, twisting them in her fists. Her hips kept time with her desire, her heels dug into the bed, "Oh Sherlock, please."

Understanding what she wanted he put his arm under her left leg and lifted it over his shoulder, doing the same with the right. As he increased his pace Molly started squeezing her breasts and twisting her nipples, calling out to him how _good_ he made her feel.

The pleasure was intense, his gaze remained fixed on her face as he pounded into her harder and harder as she praised him. "Molly, you're so beautiful, I want you always like this, can I have you always? Will you stay with me?"

"Yes!, Yes! Oh God yes, _oh, oh, Sherlock_." His snapped his hips against her, gaining force with each thrust, her cries and moans taking him dangerously close to the edge.

Molly strained up towards him, seeking his mouth, "Please kiss me Sherlock, I'm going to… _Oh_." As Sherlock covered her mouth with his own she cried out, her body going rigid beneath him, filling his mouth with her moans and sighs.

The sensations built into a crescendo, a feeling of pure bliss permeated his body completely, no thrill from anything heretofore known could compare. He'd heard people talk of 'Touching the face of God.' Surely this is what was meant; for if there was such a thing as a God to make the world of love then surely the deepest and most profound loving experiences would be the measure of him.

Sherlock came back into his mind slowly, he had collapsed on top of Molly, it felt like coming home. Her tiny body providing him with more support and comfort than he had thought possible, certainly more than he deserved.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

When Molly saw Sherlock's eyes open she started laughing, "Lost you there for a bit, you're a little heavy you know?" Her smile reassuring him that she didn't mind in the least.

Sherlock rolled off and leant his head on an elbow so he could he could look at her, his gaze was beyond even his normal intensity. He took a breath and Molly's eyes widened, whatever he was about to say was serious.

Tendrils of terror wrapped themselves around her throat, constricting ever so slightly, the threat all too clear. "Are you okay? If this was a mistake..I..um," her eyes closed and her head turned away.

Sherlock reached out his hand, cupping her face he turned her back toward him. Her face was drawn, panic circling, she was terrified he was about to crush her, his heart lurched. _Am I so terrible?_ Caressing her face he blurted out in a single breath, "I don't deserve you but I want to marry you."

He was preternaturally still as he stared at her, barely breathing, waiting to see what she would do. Molly's eyes opened, her gaze found his, she too appeared to be unable to move, they were woven into a spell and neither cared to break it.

Molly's voice came softly when she spoke, a whisper, "Yes," she nodded for clarity.

Sherlock's face opened like a flower blooming, his smile glorious, "Yes?"

Molly smiled back at him, "Of course yes, you idiot, always yes to you Sherlock Holmes."

Sherlock muttered, "Hang on," leapt out of bed and fumbled with his dressing gown that hung on the back of the door ignoring the fact of his nakedness. He glanced back at Molly who _wasn't_ ignoring his nakedness, when she him saw him looking at her she dragged her eyes reluctantly off of him.

He grinned, "Molly, if you like looking, look," he shrugged, "I've never minded you looking at me," he winked and added, "I stare at you all the time, I'm just better about being subtle." Molly smiled, pleased.

"Oh! Mrs Hudson!" Yanking the door open he stepped out to go and find his landlady.

"Sherlock? _CLOTHES_!" His hand snaked around the door and snagged the dressing gown he'd just been checking.

" **Mrs Hudson** ," he bellowed, though she wasn't his house keeper she'd clearly been doing the washing and had taken his best dressing gown and with it the contents of its pocket.

Molly heard him booming out poor Mrs Hudson's name and then his feet tip tapping down the stairs at high speed. She tugged the blankets over her wondering what was going on. _He'd just proposed, well, sort of. Had he? He'd said only that he wanted to marry, not that essential question of will you?_

Molly sighed. _Did it really matter? They'd made love, and it_ had _been making love, it wasn't simply sex, it had been meaningful, he said he loved me.._ She smiled feeling content and happy.

Her thoughts trailed off when Sherlock appeared in the door way, dressing gown flapping, every inch of him exposed, Molly bit her lip. _His body was the stuff of fantasies, no wonder he didn't mind her looking, he was David, with a fuller endowment_.

He appeared to be the eye of a hurricane as he swept into the room, he held his prize aloft proudly, "Pocket of my best dressing gown, just like I thought, Mrs Hudson was rather pleased to hand it over."

Molly's eyes swept up to the object he was clutching, snagging on the ring box in his hand. Realising after a few moments that her mouth was open she closed it. Speech had fled, her lips were dry, she darted her tongue out to moisten them as he kneeled beside the bed.

Sherlock took her hand, his gaze searching, "Did you mean it?" He opened the ring box to show her the beautifully ornate sapphire and diamond, white gold ring nestled inside. "This isn't a spur of the moment decision Molly. I wanted to marry you when I came back but you were engaged. I tried to be happy for you but I wasn't. You belong with me, you've always belonged with me. John tells me I'm incredibly thick for a genius, in this particular case he may be right."

Sherlock took the ring from the box and let the box simply slip from his fingers, he took her hand and murmured, "May I?"

Molly felt the tears pooling in her eyes, as she nodded they began their descent, rolling down the planes of her cheeks one by one. Feeling rather as though she was in a dream she resolved to never ever pinch herself as long as she lived. If this was a dream it was the most picture perfect, sweetest dream and she never wanted to wake up.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Sherlock felt relief sweep through him. From the moment he'd realised that Molly was his north star he'd been aching to claim her, they belonged to each other. Molly had always known, he was not as clever with emotions.

"Molly? I'm not good at feelings, you have to help me, I don't know how to be the man you need, I don't want to disappoint you." His eyes pleaded mutely.

Molly wiggled her fingers, a clear request for him to slide the ring onto her finger immediately. Her smile was wide, tears glistening as they chased each in an endless race. "Sherlock, I don't want you to be someone you're not." Slotting her fingers in between his and pressing their palms together she tugged at him to get up and lay with her again.

When they were nestled together and under the covers Molly disengaged one hand, sliding her palm across his chest, she went on, " _This_ is what I want, just you. Not a version of you, just you, Sherlock Holmes. All your flaws, I want them too, you've always added up to something verging on perfection for me." Her eyes met his, "Okay?"

Sherlock's eyes were shining with unshed tears, closing his eyes briefly he nodded, "Okay." He arranged Molly so her head lay on his chest and asked her, "Tell me a story?"

Molly smiled, lips curving against his chest. "Once upon a time there was a princess who really wanted to learn about why her loyal subjects died. She enlisted the help of a brave knight in the village who wanted to figure out if anybody had wronged any of those unfortunate souls.."

Sherlock grinned, rubbing his hand over her back in circles he murmured encouragingly, "Good, good."

Molly nodded and continued her tale, Sherlock laughing where appropriate and enjoying her representations of each of their friends.

After a time Sherlock went and begged plates of food for them from Mrs Hudson in return for promising he and Molly would make an announcement in the morning. They made love again many times before sleeping threaded together, Molly's ring flashing light whenever she moved.

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